Mirror Mirror on the Wall
by L122yTorch
Summary: Mirror Mirror on the Wall…who's the fairest James T. Kirk of them all? A transporter malfunction switches James T. Kirk and Scotty with their parallel universe counterparts. The stress of coming up with a solution, combined with the new information Spock has gathered from this Kirk has his head spinning and heart reeling. Will he ever get his Jim back?
1. Chapter 1

"How the hell are we going to get our captain back?" Bones waved his hands in exasperation.

He had resorted to pacing around the room.

"See, this is exactly why I don't like my atoms being scattered across space," the doctor said.

"Dr. McCoy," Spock said evenly, "you, I and the most experienced members of the engineering team are analyzing the situation and researching courses of action. In the meantime, I suggest keeping your level of panic to a minimum."

Bones shot him a sharp glare.

"You want me to calm down? Is that it?"

Spock knew when to remain silent.

"There is a creature prowling behind the glass barrier of the brig with murder in his eyes. He looks like our captain, but acts nothing like him. He has no compassion, no warmth, no empathy!"

Bones rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

"You and our engineers hypothesize that he's from some parallel universe – an alternate reality. Well, if he is…can you imagine what those wacko's are doing to our captain? To our Jim?" 

The thought was extremely unsettling and pulled at Spock's emotions, but it was his priority to keep those feelings in check so that he could utilize the full breadth of his logic to solve the problem.

"I am aware of the circumstances doctor," Spock said, rising from his seat. "And I will do everything within my power to retrieve our version of Captain Kirk."

"I understand that you are running medical tests on our visitors," he continued. "Please contact me if you find any information that would prove helpful."

"Is that your way of telling me to keep busy and stop freaking out?"

"Yes," Spock said, turning and leaving the room.

With broad strides, he made his way through the cool white labyrinth of the ship's corridors towards the brig.

This new Kirk, Uhura and Scotty had been aboard for only a day. Kirk proved the most hostile. He had managed to take out five security officers before finally succumbing to a hypo. They housed him by himself.

He wouldn't admit it if asked, but Spock felt…nervous. Many times the idea had occurred to him that he may never see his captain again, but he tried his best to push that notion from his thoughts. He also attempted to avoid considering what the other "Enterprise" was doing to his captain.

His footsteps echoed down the halls.

This was his first opportunity all day to speak with Kirk one-on-one and hopefully because it was late and due to the stressful day and a few hypos, the imposter captain would be in a moderately docile mood.

It was a far-fetched hope.

This man was not Spock's captain, and he was far from benign.

Two red shirts nodded as Spock approached and he continued past them. Once his iris was scanned, the doors to the brig's outer room opened.

A familiar profile greeted his sight.

The man sat hunched over, elbows on his knees, hands together, like he was in a waiting room - a look of unconcerned boredom stretching across his features.

He didn't even lift his head as Spock approached.

"I wondered when I would see you," the thing said, grinning. His head was slightly tilted down, and from beneath his brows, Jim's shining blue eyes shimmered in the light as he looked over at Spock.

"I guess no matter what universe you're in, some things never change," Kirk stood, and faced the first officer.

He had a glint of madness in his cadence, a hint of mayhem in his words. He seemed self-assured and un-phased by the day's tumultuous events (and hypos).

"It's so… _fascinating_…" he drew the word out for extra emphasis. "…to see you here. To see this other Spock."

"You do not even know me," Spock replied. "How can you assess how I am like or unlike your version of Spock?" 

Jim gave a side grin. "I can already tell from how you've handled this "incident," from how long it has taken you to visit me, from the way you walked in the room… it's not hard to tell that we are from very different worlds," Kirk tilted his head.

"What an opportunity this could afford you," Jim added.

"Clarify," Spock said.

"Are you kidding?" Jim laughed. "What better time to see into your captain than now? Through me?"

"You are not my captain," Spock replied.

"Am I not?" Jim asked. "Sure, I am different in many ways, but I must share some characteristics with your captain."

"I doubt it," Spock said.

Laughter ripped through the chamber that held Kirk, reverberating off the sterile walls.

"You have the same spark that my Spock does," Jim smiled, folded his arms and walked closer to the barrier.

"Why did you come here?" Kirk suddenly queried. "Was it to see the monster? Am I the main attraction? Or do you want answers as to what's probably happening to your captain?"

Spock was intrigued but remained silent, hands folded behind his back, a look of indifference on his face.

"If they've realized he's not me, which they probably have by now, he'll be put in the torture booth or thrown in the brig. While he's in there, he'll surely be killed – it's how we move up in rank, by killing those higher in command. And I know for a fact that Checkov has been planning to assassinate me."

Spock's blood ran cold.

"It's ironic really," Jim continued. "Spock will be the one to realize that I'm not me. He'll probably be the one to throw him in the torture booth himself. Or maybe he'd have a different torture in mind…"

Spock's brow creased. What other torture was Jim referring to?

Jim changed the subject again.

"Do you know what I would do to my Spock if he ever dared to cross me? Throw me in the brig like this? I would do the same thing to him that I would do to you if I got out of here," he stepped even closer.

"I'd get you to my quarters and handcuff you to my headboard," Jim's voice dipped low. "I'd shove some chocolate down your throat and strip your clothes off."

Spock's lips parted, but joined together again quickly as he tried to recover the look of shock that he'd let slip through the cracks.

Jim looked Spock up and down like he was a fine meal and stepped closer to the partition.

"I'd strip and suck you're pretty double ridged green dick until you were good and hard," Jim's pink tongue darted out and wetted his lips.

Spock considered leaving, but his feet would not move.

"That pretty little dip behind your balls would generate so much lube, but I wouldn't use it. I'd just thrust into you. You have a high pain tolerance, but it'd still sting," Kirk gulped, noticing the green flush over Spock's features.

"I'd fuck into you and suck your pointy ear while I kiss you with my fingers."

Again Spock's lips parted and beneath his void expression, shock bubbled and rolled. His hands moved in front of himself, grasping one another.

Jim had no knowledge of what his reproductive organs looked like, or of the area behind his scrotum that produced a sticky lubricant. Jim had no knowledge of how Vulcans kissed with their fingers, that chocolate had the effect on Vulcans that alcohol did on humans, or that his ears being sucked turned him on. His Jim knew none of this. Which meant that…

"I'd buck into you until you were begging to cum, but I'd whisper to you that if you did, I'd kill you," Jim smiled, now up against the glass so close that his breath fogged it.

"Finally I'd draw out of you and crawl up your body. It should be punishment, but you'd enjoy it as I put my dick in your mouth. You'd hollow your cheeks like a whore and I'd dip in and out of you until I came down your throat," Jim closed his eyes.

"Fuck. That mouth, so wet and cool and strong," he said as if recalling a memory. When he opened his eyes again they were blown black and hooded.

"I'd slide back down your body, rubbing my ass into your hard leaking cock and you'd moan, but not beg to come. You'd know better."

Jim's eyes swept up and down Spock once more, his hand against the glass at crotch-level, thumb rubbing an absent pattern on its surface.

"I'd tell you that once I left you could come. And as soon as the door shut you'd spill with cum, even without the use of your hands."

Spock's mind was reeling.

Jim was clearly hard. His erection strained against the black regulation pants, and he made no attempt to hide it – as Spock hid his own.

"It would be so delightful to have you," Jim said wistfully.

"I assure you that is not going to happen," Spock said dryly.

"Too bad," Jim answered, removing the hand from the glass and running it beneath the hem of his shirt, pulling it up just a little, revealing a trail of golden hair and … the head of his dick that poked up past the waist of his pants.

Spock quickly turned to leave the brig.

"Goodnight T'hy'la," Jim said as Spock was nearly to the door.

The word stopped him dead in his tracks, and uninhibited due to the lack of watching eyes, his emotions flooded into his features.

"Taluhk nash-veh k'dular Spock."

Heart racing, Spock took a breath and continued forward, the familiar swoosh of the door opening for him, and closing behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

Now, in addition to the stress of wondering what his own James T. Kirk was enduring in the parallel universe, Spock had to consider what this James T. Kirk had just relayed to him.

He chastised himself as he strolled towards his quarters to meditate.

The purpose of speaking with this impostor was to gain new insight. Which, technically, he had - but it was far from what he had in mind.

Spock's fingers trembled as they lit the spicy brown incense. He took a deep whiff before seating himself at his usual meditation spot. With measured breaths he attempted to sink into a relaxed state, but he couldn't.

His inability to meditate only fueled his fury. He was unable to control his emotions and that was the ultimate failure for a true Vulcan.

Biting his lip, keeping his eyes closed, he probed his own mind to identify the feelings that were running rampant within him. Perhaps if he identified each emotion, he could shut them down one by one.

At the forefront was lust and arousal.

Jim's…this man's….words and actions were heady and sexual, tugging on something carnal within Spock. And just when he managed to push down his feelings, the image of Jim's dick would pop into his memory. It was pink and leaking, pulsing with the desire to be inside of him.

It rocked him that he…possibly…desired it also. His physical reaction certainly would support that theory. And where would that leave he and Nyota? Granted, their relationship was a bumpy road, but they were still on it.

The entire night was shocking and that shock reverberated through Spock like an electrical charge.

Jim had called him T'hy'la.

In the parallel universe, were they bonded? And if so, would his counter part in the parallel universe attempt to "punish" his Jim Kirk sexually?

Talk about confusing…he was fearful that another version of himself might assault his own captain! It would ruin their working relationship, their entire future together in command could dissolve, along with their friendship.

Fear bloomed as that thought unfolded. He couldn't lose Jim's friendship. He couldn't.

And what was his Jim learning in the parallel universe? Spock doubted that he even knew what T'hy'la meant.

Also, if the parallel universe Spock and Jim were bonded, could their bond stretch over the rip in dimensions? Could they be telepathically communicating with one another, even now? If so, his captain would certainly be in imminent danger if this Jim could warn his Spock that the captain was an impostor.

The implications were fascinating, albeit terrifying.

And what if he could never get his Jim back?

That's the thought that scared Spock the most.

These "parallel people" seemed ruthless, savage, even reminiscent of Khan. Kirk was not a delicate flower, but his morals and integrity would surely get him killed if he had to remain there for long.

With a heavy sigh and a violent shake of his head, Spock stood up and abandoned meditation. Exasperated, he began to pace about the room. It was a mistake to identify the mass of swirling emotions within his chest - it only made the situation more overwhelming.

The ring of the door interrupted the cacophony of thoughts racing through Spock's head. He swiftly opened the door and resumed his pacing.

"Spock," Nyota said, entering the space, "are you alright?"

Spock stopped, hands on his waist, and looked up at her. She should have been on that transporter pad, yet here she was. Called away just in the nick of time to prevent her from getting thrown into the parallel universe - and having her counterpart delivered here.

"I am glad that you were not beamed down," he replied.

"That wasn't the question I asked."

"No Nyota, I am not alright," he said, unable to lie, but wishing he could. He faced her, moving his hands behind his back where they wrung against one another fiercely.

She felt helpless.

"I wish I could help Spock. I wish I could make everything better."

"You have made things better," Spock answered, "simply due to the fact that you were not also lost."

"Maybe I could take your mind off things for a little while," she said, stepping forward and placing a hand on the commander's chest, a weak smile lifting the corners of her cheeks.

Spock just looked down at the hand as if it were a foreign object that did not belong on his person. He did not feel the familiar warmth and comfort in her touch. Instead he felt guilt. As if he had somehow cheated on her through realizing that he might possess feelings for his captain. Was he really glad that she was here?

"I understand," she said, backing away.

She ran a hand through her pony tail and attempted to change the subject.

"I heard that you visited the…Jim Kirk…this version of him."

Spock simply nodded slightly in affirmation.

"Did he say anything useful?"

Spock's face began to betray his stolid nature. His human eyes twisted with emotion, and the pallor of his skin became a shade paler.

He could not lie, but he also did not wish to discuss it. Not now.

"Whatever he said, you can tell me," she angled, sensing his hesitation.

He just looked at her as if he was taxed - like this conversation was sucking the life out of him.

Finally Spock said, "he gave no information that would be helpful to retrieving our Kirk and Scotty."

Nyota laughed. "You sound like a lawyer with the way you danced around that question."

"I can't do this!" Spock said, raising his voice. "Not right now. I cannot have this conversation, when my energy would be better spent coming up with a solution."

Uhura crossed her arms and shook her head.

"You know, typically when stressed, people turn to the one they care about for comfort…for solace. And it's situations like this that make me wonder if it's your Vulcan nature that keeps the distance between us…or the fact that you don't really love me."

It was borderline cruel to give Spock more to worry about, considering the situation, but Nyota couldn't help it. The words slipped past her lips uninhibited.

Spock should have felt something at hearing those words. He should have been worried about losing his relationship with her, but...

She turned to leave. Stopping at the open door she looked at Spock one last time and said, "If everyone were on board and you were experiencing an unnaturally high amount pressure and stress - who is it that you'd run to first?" And with that she disappeared, the door closing behind her.

The answer immediately sprung to Spock's mind. He knew exactly who he'd turn to first.


	3. Chapter 3

It was apparent to Jim that this wasn't his Enterprise as soon a he materialized. The "décor" was different, the transporter pad was different, and most noticeably, the once familiar face that stood across from him – was different.

He gave a warning glance to Scotty. Sort of a "don't say anything, keep quiet" look and then he stepped off the pad.

Although difficult, he had to choke back his shock and confusion. The words…"Spock, you have a beard?!" hung in his mouth, unspoken.

He waited for Spock to say something like, "hey, good to have you back aboard," but the Vulcan said nothing. So he had to make up for the silence.

"Is there something wrong with the transporter?"

Spock tilted his head. "It was, at first, difficult to beam you and Scotty aboard."

Kirk really should've been listening, but his eyes lingered at the beard. It was fucking hot. Shit. He should not be having these thoughts. He should be freaking out that he's…well…not on his ship!

"Is everything alright?" Spock asked, taking a step towards Jim and Scotty.

"Yes," Jim answered too quickly.

Spock gave him a doubtful look, then turned his gaze to the tech operating the transporter. "Explain what exactly happened with the transporter and how this malfunction can be avoided in the future," the Vulcan gritted, apparently angry with the tech.

"There's nothing I could have done sir," the man squeaked nervously. "Electromagnetic storms cannot be predicted or corrected for Mr. Spock – there is no solution."

"Wrong answer," Spock said, zapping the man with a handheld device.

Scotty took a step forward, concern on his face, but Jim held him back.

The charge lasted several seconds and left the operator bent over the control panels, writhing in pain and gasping for air. Security came and took him away as a replacement took up the station.

"Shall we resume our mission and carry on to Elios captain?" Spock said as if he hadn't just nearly zapped a man to death.

"No," Kirk answered.

"Scotty, get back to work," he said to the dazed man next to him.

"Aye sir," Scotty said, disappearing out the doors.

"No Mr. Spock, we will remain in orbit. Our research is not quite done and this would be an excellent opportunity to learn more about electromagnetic storms."

Spock looked like he wasn't buying it. He moved towards Jim and stared him down as if he could literally see into Jim's soul. "That is an odd move captain."

"Are you questioning me?" Kirk said resolutely, stepping even closer to Spock.

"No sir, but I do advise you to take caution. The empire does not look kindly upon wasted time," Spock said, turning to leave the room himself. Saying before he left, "I will visit you after shift."

Kirk's lips parted, confusion on his face, but he got no words out before Spock had exited the room and walked down the hall.

He'd read about parallel universe theories before but…could this be real? Could this be a parallel universe? It was the only viable explanation, yet he couldn't fully wrap his mind around the idea.

He tried to act normal, sending Scotty a discrete message over a scrambled frequency, and then resuming his station on the bridge. It just wasn't his bridge…

His coworkers were hostile, disciplined yet unruly, truly lacking filters or compassion. So rather than act appalled, Jim stayed quiet and focused on his work, only occasionally barking out orders. Trying to mimic the undercurrent of hostility present aboard the ship.

About three hours in, only one hour from being off duty, he excused himself and went to meet with Scotty.

The man was still reeling from the events of the day and expressed his admiration that Kirk could act so cool. To which Jim explained that if he didn't, they'd probably kill them both.

Behind glossy metal and the hum of machinery, the two friends discussed the possibilities of being in a parallel universe, and how they could possibly get back to their own ship.

They talked for about twenty-five minutes, and then Jim wandered back down the corridor from which he came.

The blow came out of nowhere.

He didn't even catch a glimpse of his attacker until after being punched twice and kneed in the ribs.

Shoved up against a wall he could finally make out that his assailant was Checkov. Really? Checkov? "What are you doing?" "Stop" he said, but it made no difference.

Jim was able to get in a solid punches, but Checkov got in two more. Bright red blood dripped from his face, and his tongue tasted of metal. The room was spinning and his heart beat loudly in his ears. He felt dizzy and disoriented, gasping for breath as Chekov slammed punches into his ribs.

Then the young pilot pulled out a knife. It looked just like the knives on the uniforms – except that it was very real. Glinting in the synthetic light, pressed up against his neck.

Could this really be how he was going out? Barely into his five-year mission, murdered by his own man in a parallel universe?

Then Checkov slowly fell to the ground, a strong hand delivering a nerve pinch to the junction between his shoulder and neck.

Jim gasped for breath, grateful to hear the clink of the sharp knife hitting the floor.

He slid a little down the wall and braced his hands on his knees as the world reordered itself.

"Put him in the booth," he heard Spock say to a redshirt who was hauling away Checkov.

He nearly slipped and said, "what's the booth?" But he stopped himself.

"The full hour captain?" Spock asked. Jim just nodded up and down.

"I will walk with you to your quarters," Spock said matter-of-factly. Jim silently agreed, surprised that the Vulcan did not suggest sickbay instead. Maybe he didn't seem fucked up enough to need a doctor. They did seem pretty hard-core in this universe.

They walked in silence until Spock spoke.

"It was incredibly unwise of you to take a stroll to engineering, knowing that Checkov had plans to assassinate you."

Jim hid the shock on his face. It probably helped that it was mostly covered in blood.

"It is fortunate that I arrived," Spock continued. "The thought of Checkov as captain is unsettling. He is too emotional to command the most highly regarded ship in the Empire."

Jim laughed. "And I thought you thought I was over-emotional."

"You are," Spock said without missing a beat. "But you are at least mentally sound."

It was the weirdest thing, how in that moment, James T. Kirk missed Spock, and yet, was talking to Spock. He could almost feel a thread of their familiar friendship, but it was buried beneath a man he did not know.

They finally arrived at his quarters. After his iris was scanned, the door slid opened and two officers stepped inside. As soon as the barrier slid shut, Spock spun around and pinned Jim to the wall.

"You want to kill me too?" Jim asked.

"No," Spock answered, "I have no desire to endure the headaches that accompany captaincy."

"So…what are you doing?" Jim asked, despite the forearm pressing into his already whiplashed neck.

"Something about you is different," Spock said, less than an inch from Kirk's face, his face cocked to one side. "Ever since you returned from the planet's surface, I have been unable to reach you through our bond."

Bond? BOND? Weren't Vulcan bondmates like…married?

"I can sense your surprise," the Vulcan growled, making Jim aware of his touch telepathy.

Jim's jaw stammered open and shut a few times. "I know…I'm surprised too…ever since the transport, I haven't been able to reach you through the bond. I don't know how to explain it."

Was Spock buying it? Clearly the science officer was skeptical, but for whatever reason, he did not press the issue further. Instead, he released his pin on Jim and in a swift move, tore off Jim's blood stained shirt.

Kirk gulped. "What are you doing?" he asked, a bit too meekly. The tone of his voice surprised even himself. The quick action of having his shirt removed was getting him hard.

"We are never more in sync than when together," Spock whispered into his ear, his blue shirt tickling the blonde hairs on Jim's chest. "Clearly we need to strengthen our bond."

A wave of uninhibited lust rolled through Kirk and his breathing picked up. "But uh…I'm bleeding, I'm a mess."

"Why are you searching for excuses to avoid my ministrations?" Spock queried, tilting Jim's mouth towards his with a finger pulling on the pale chin.

"I…uh…" Jim's logic flew out the window as Spock's breath ghosted over his lips. The wiry hair of the Vulcan's beard brushed against the soft skin of Kirk's face.

An internal battle waged within Kirk. What was he doing? He couldn't do this! He would be taking advantage of his hidden desires, but at what cost? If he did get back to his universe, how would he ever face his own Spock? What if he could have a taste of something great with Spock, only to return to a different Spock that didn't share these desires?

And fuck, he was straight. Wasn't he? I mean…he'd thought about this before…late at night, after long days spent with his first officer. But this wasn't a fleeting daydream this was real.

Spock waited, perched just beyond his lips.

And finally, Jim lurched forward, to kiss him.

In great contrast to the scratchy beard, Spock's lips were softer than a rose petal. Yet muscular, as they molded around his own, prying his mouth apart until he could feel the tip of Spock's tongue pushing in.

Jim was kissing Spock like he would kiss a girl, but Spock was fierce – nipping at Jim's lips and prompting his jaw open with his hands as he pushed him back up against the wall. Spock was devouring him, and he not only acquiesced, but also reciprocated.

After a nice make out session, Spock took a break to quickly remove his shirt and slip off his pants, revealing an impressive tent in his black regulation boxers.

Kirk actually fucking salivated. His own erection pressed tightly into the waistband of his pants. The pants that Spock now had fingers in, dragging him violently forward as the Vulcan walked backward until the back of his knees hit the bed, and he sat.

In a smooth stroke, he gathered Kirk up and dragged the captain onto his lap.

Jim's hands couldn't feel the flesh beneath him fast enough. They roamed over every inch of Spock. They ran through his inky black hair, down his muscular corded neck, to his well-defined back and around to his chest where they met with a swirling patch of dark chest hair.

Kirk moaned and ground into Spock, whose hands were on his ass, pulling him down even harder. His pants were ripping, and Spock gladly finished the job – tearing them from his body as if they were made from tissue paper.

When Jim teased one of Spock's nipples with his fingers and sucked on his neck, the Vulcan beneath him growled with approval. The primal sound was nearly enough to send Kirk over the edge.

So he stopped and scooted back a bit, just far enough to palm a hand over Spock's dick.

Looking first into Spock's black/brown eyes, and then down to the twitching cock beneath his hand, Jim pulled it out from the boxers and ran a thumb over the leaking head.

"God, you're beautiful," he said, as he stroked the green-tinged dick. A flash of confusion scurried across Spock's features, only to disappear back into pleasure.

Then the weirdest thing happened…

It was as if someone were knocking on a door – in Jim's mind.

Spock flipped them both onto the bed and yanked Jim's boxers down, grinding his cock against his captain's. His forehead was pressed against Jim's.

"Let me in," he gritted between breathless kisses. But Jim didn't know how.

Spock was on top of him, holding both of their erections in his strong, tight hand, pumping furiously. "Let me in!" he said, this time more forcefully.

So Jim approached the door in his mind and attempted to open it.

It wasn't easy.

But then…

He felt a presence step inside of himself. However, it didn't feel how Jim expected it to feel. It felt…off. Like when you have a piece of a puzzle that so nearly fits with another, but is just slightly the wrong shape.

Both of the Vulcan hands, the one on his dick and the one approaching his ass, froze.

His skin begged for contact, but Spock removed his touch and now hovered over him, his forearms holding up his lithe body. And he stared down at Jim; unable to comprehend the overwhelming sensation of light and love that he just experienced.

The breath in Kirk's lungs disappeared. The way Spock looked at him was beyond alarming. It was a mix of anger, betrayal, annoyance and confusion.

"Who are you?" Spock hissed.

Jim's heart skipped a beat. Pumped again, then skipped two more.

"I'm James T. Kirk," he said honestly.

A rumble formed beneath the surface of Spock's chest, and his eyebrows drew together with fury.


End file.
